And How Does That Make You Feel?
by DestineyTot
Summary: Some monsters just don't want to be monsters at all. Some of them want to live seamlessly amongst humankind. But it's easier said than done, especially when their biology and natural instincts are working against them. That's why they have Erwin Smith though, and that's also why they gather around in a circle each week to discuss their problems with each other.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **I made a post on Tumblr about an SnK Supernatural Creatures AU. It drew in some attention from people, and I had various messages in my inbox asking me to write this AU. So yeah...here you go.

First chapter is mostly introductions, and boy, aren't those always fun. There will be pairings in this story. Eren/Levi will probably be the one you see most. There's also gonna be some Jean/Marco and Mikasa/Annie.

* * *

Taking a deep, calming breath, he steps into the room. Erwin's senses are immediately swamped with a melting pot of supernatural entities.

He takes a seat at the pinnacle of the circle, taking a moment to send each and everyone one of the group members a gentle smile. Some of them return the gesture, while others simply stare at him with neutral expressions. Armin Arlert's smile shines the brightest out of the entire group, but that's only to be expected from a Cupid. They're always so cheerful and positive.

"Good evening, everyone." Erwin clears his voice, shuffling through the papers in his hands and reading quickly over the names at the top. "I hope that this past weekend has done you all well?"

He gets mostly a mumbled response from the group, but some individuals answer more clearly. Among those individuals is Eren Jaeger, who's looking vibrant, happy, and healthy. Erwin tries not to think too much about why. Incubi are always an awkward subject to discuss. He appreciates that Eren is in good health, though. He just doesn't want to breach the details.

"I'm glad to hear that. It will be nice to hear about the improvements you've all made this weekend during this session." It was a generalization, Erwin knew. But it's better to expect good things from someone than to constantly expect bad things from them. It never helps morale when you feel like people are constantly looking down on you, that much Erwin is sure of.

Right on cue, he notices some of the group members moving awkwardly in their seats. He notices Bertholdt rubbing at his arm nervously and Sasha's eyes darting back and forth, as if suddenly everyone is looking at her. Erwin suppresses a sigh, knowing that that'll be a subject they'll have to touch upon before leaving.

"How about we start with what you all did this weekend?" He looks around the circle, smile still pressed on his lips and eyes kind and inviting. "Who would like to go first?"

Surprisingly, Christa is the first to raise her hand. Erwin nods his approval, and she begins in her soft voice. "Well, Ymir and I visited the national park on Saturday. We went hiking into the woods and visited the lakeside for a while."

Erwin lets out a small hum to show that he's listening. "That sounds lovely, Christa. How did that make you feel?" He knew that nature held a special place inside Christa and Ymir's hearts, especially the latter. Fairies and Nymphs were among the most environmentally inclined creatures out there.

"It was amazing, being able to be out there all alone in the wilderness." Christa smiles, but then falters for a moment. "Sometimes I forget how important it is to me. Living in the city now…it's easy to take for granted everything that I used to love."

"But at the same time, you can't let yourself dwell on the past either." Erwin encourages her. "You must find a balance between what you used to enjoy, and what you enjoy now." He turns to Ymir, whose face is schooled into a bored expression. "Did you enjoy it as well, Ymir?"

"It was good." She replies simply, and Erwin knows not to budge her for petty details. Ymir is straight to the point.

He goes through the routine of asking everyone else what they'd done. Eren talks about his and Levi's horror movie marathon. Levi mostly complains about Eren forcing him to watch various vampire flicks. The complaints are about the inaccuracies of some of the movies' depictions of vampires. Trust an actual vampire to know the truth, Erwin supposes.

Annie mentions that she'd been feeling uneasy all Friday evening, only to turn on the local news station and find that a pair of teens had been killed in a fatal car crash nearby. Erwin asks how intense the feelings of anxiety had been. Annie comments that they weren't nearly as bad as they usually were. He writes this down as progress in her file. Banshees always have problems with anxiety.

Reiner talks about his trip to the gym, and about how bewildered the gym goers had been when they'd seen him lifting. He cracks a joke about not being able to help the fact that he's made out of _rock hard_ muscle, and everyone suppresses a groan at his lame pun. Golems and their damn stony biology.

Connie talks about his gaming adventures, and glumly remarks that he had to stay away from using the mic while playing. Erwin asks him why, and he's met with a self-conscious response. "Because I didn't feel like putting up with bullshit because of my lisp." Right on cue, he hisses out the last word, and flushes embarrassedly. "Ugh, see!"

Erwin meets Connie's slit eyes and sends him a sympathetic smile. "You just do whatever makes you feel the most comfortable, Connie." The lisp is just one of the unfortunate aspects of being a Llamia and having a split tongue. Cool in thought, not so cool when having to actually speak.

Next up is Jean and Marco. Well, mostly Marco. Jean looks to be in a bad mood, but that's nothing unusual for Erwin. He'd probably be in a bad mood too if he had to constantly fight down violent, bloody urges. Marco is chipper as always, sharing his and Jean's inner city shenanigans from this weekend. He speaks highly of Jean and notes that the Demon hadn't experienced a single violent episode during their trip.

He also shares his own experience, telling everyone about how they'd encountered a child that been injured on the playground in the city park. Marco speaks proudly about how he'd healed the child's sprained ankle and playfully told them to keep it a secret.

Erwin doesn't know much about Nephilim, but if there's one thing he does know, it's that Marco is one of the kindest creatures he's ever encountered in his lengthy life.

Armin and Mikasa are next. It takes a bit of prompting from Armin, but Mikasa eventually gives in and tells Erwin about their time together this weekend. At first, she's incredibly stiff and reluctant to be speaking to him, but he notices how she gradually relaxes as she goes on.

He sees Armin's hand on Mikasa's arm, and deduces that Armin must be spreading a calm over her.

He knows not to take Mikasa's coldness to heart. As an Amazon, she grew up in a culture where men are considered untrustworthy and foreign. Her reluctance is purely internalized and something not easily overcome. If anything, he admires her determination to explore the world on her own, away from the other Amazons and outside of their influence.

He learns that she'd accidentally broken some more silverware and china this weekend, and sees the exasperation on her face as she relays this info to him. Mikasa's strength is one of her most predominant attributes…and problems. She has a lot of trouble using it in moderation.

Finally it's time for Bertholdt and Sasha, and judging by the almost sick looks on their faces, Erwin surmises that they've both got some mishaps to answer for.

"Is there anything you two would like to share?" Erwin gets straight to the point. He sees the two of them exchanging nervous glances. "We're all in this together. Don't be afraid to admit to your mistakes, if you've made any. The only way to move forward is to come to terms with your past."

There's about another minute of uneasiness between Sasha and Bertholdt. Sasha breaks first, admitting with a long groan. "I'm so sorry, I really am, oh god I'm so sorry. I suck, I really do."

She's quickly turning into a blubbering mess and Erwin's eyebrows pinch together in sympathy. He sends Armin a quick look and the petite blond nods back at him in understanding. Armin pulls his chair over to Sasha and places a soothing hand on her shoulder. Her trembling figure slowly begins to still.

"I…I might have messed up too." Bertholdt begins unsurely. Reiner sends him a questioning look, and it becomes clear that the large brute is clueless about what Bertholdt is hinting at.

"I see." Erwin murmurs, looking between the tall Fire Element and the still crying Ghoul who is now leaning slightly into Armin's arms. "Sasha, how about we start with you? Tell me what happened."

She pulls away from Armin, and takes a moment to compose herself to the best of her will. By the time she speaks, she's still sniffling slightly. "I had to do some shopping this weekend –household things, you know? And while I was out, I picked up this scent." She shudders suddenly, her body almost vibrating at the memory of it. "It smelled so good, and it was like I was starving all of a sudden! Before I knew what had happened, I…I had…"

She sends Erwin a panicked look, and he motions for her to continue.

"When I came to, it was already too late. I was covered in blood and…this poor guy, I don't even know who he was. I was in an alleyway somewhere, and I don't even remember giving in, I don't even remember going there. It's like the hunger just took over me and he smelled so nice and- and-"

"Sasha," Erwin calls out, but to no avail. She's starting to babble incoherently now and her chest is heaving up and down in an effort to keep up with her rambling. Everyone in the circle is staring at her with wary eyes. Some are even scooting their chairs away.

He crosses the circle and immediately presses a gentle touch to her forehead. Her voice stops abruptly and her eyes fall closed as she slumps slightly in her chair. Armin holds her up the best he can, and the room falls uncomfortably quiet.

Panic attacks in humans are usually handled with soothing words and touches, but panic attacks in supernatural creatures can be a little more…unpredictable. Erwin faintly recalls how Mike would randomly wolf out when he was overcome with emotions like that. He silently thanks whatever God may be out there that those days are long over with.

He steps back from Sasha's seat and takes his own once again. He looks around at everyone's faces. No one seems to be too surprised this time around. This wasn't the first time Erwin had to intervene with his own brand of power.

No, the first time was when he'd caught Eren on a bad day and had tried to inquire a little bit too much. Incubi aren't so nice when they've starved themselves of sex for too long.

With Sasha now dozing in her chair peacefully, Erwin now turns his attention to Bertholdt. "Alright, Bertholdt." He shoots him a quick smile in an attempt to encourage him.

Bertholdt swallows uneasily. "I...might have accidentally set fire to the curtains."

Compared to Sasha's offense, Bertholdt's is mostly innocent, but different supernatural deities entail different levels of crimes. Not to say that Bertholdt couldn't seriously hurt someone if he wanted to.

"What the fuck." Now it's Reiner who's speaking, and he's sending Bertholdt a strange look. "I knew those curtains looked different. I just couldn't figure out why. Did you replace them?"

"I honestly didn't mean to! I mean, well…I did it on impulse, and I'm sorry. I really am."

Someone chokes out a sound, and Erwin notices that Eren and Ymir are trying to suppress their boisterous laughter. Bertholdt is still apologizing profusely to Reiner about the curtains ordeal and Sasha is now snoring lightly in her induced sleep. Even the ever so stoic Levi has his thin eyebrows raised in amusement.

The atmosphere is significantly lighter now, Erwin realizes.

"A minor offense, Bertholdt." He catches the tall Fire Element's attention. "Be thankful that it wasn't something larger. We'll have to work on controlling your impulses a little better." His light blue eyes flash to Sasha, and he nods towards her unconscious body. "Sasha, as well. I'll contact you two later and we can discuss it in more detail then." He sets the stack of neat papers down in his lap and clasps his hands together. "For now though, I'm sure you're all very bored with this. So we'll call it a day, hmm?"

The sounds of people getting up and clothes rustling fills the room. Armin, along with Connie, manages to hoist Sasha up from the chair where she's still unconscious, and one by one they leave the room until Erwin is the only one left.

Not long after, Hanji comes bounding into the room, a manic smile on their face and hair unkempt and messy as always. "So! How did it go this time around?"

"Mostly normal." As normal as a group of supernatural creatures with too many personal problems can get. "A few mishaps, but mostly normal."

Erwin sighs and stands up to stretch, back popping slightly with the strain. Not many Djinn get stuck with the profession of being a counselor for supernatural beings.

In fact, Erwin was pretty sure that he might even be the first.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** Just wanna give a big thank you to everyone who reviewed this fic. If you have any questions, you can find me on Tumblr. My url is destineytots.

* * *

"Man, I feel so bad for Sasha." Eren whispered quietly.

He and Levi were walking back home after their group session, and his muted voice was easily picked up by Levi. The shorter man hummed his assent and stuffed his hands inside the tight pockets of his jeans.

"She was doing so well for a while there, too." Eren continued, eyebrows furrowed in empathy. "I bet she feels horrible."

"Can't expect all of us to be perfect." Levi acquiesced in his deep voice, and his sharp grey eyes flicked to Eren's turquoise ones. "We're all trying to fight against things that many of our kind consider second nature."

Eren sighs, forlorn and accepting. "Yeah, but it still sucks. All that effort to try and be good, and then it all comes crashing down on you in an instant." He'd had his fair share of relapses in the past too. Before he'd met Levi, he was constantly fucking up. Incubi can only starve themselves of sex for so long before their health starts to plummet.

Eren could go maybe 2 weeks without sex before he felt like he was going to die from starvation. His body count before he'd met Levi could probably contend with Sasha's, to be honest.

It's never fun waking up in bed with a corpse.

Luckily he didn't have to deal with that anymore; the dead bodies and the starvation. Vampires made a killer substitute for sex partners. It was kind of how Eren and Levi met each other. What had started out as a simple partnership though had turned into a full-blown romance, something Eren thought he'd never have to luxury to experience.

Incubi and succubi can't exactly hold long-term relationships with just anyone, after all.

Upon arriving home, Eren immediately collapses on the couch in the living room. Group sessions are boring, but necessary to keep each other in check. Feelings talks are never fun, but even monsters need them every once in a while. Especially monsters who may or may not be harboring a shit ton of skeletons in their closets.

Eren spends the evening watching television while Levi is off in some other part of the house, doing undoubtedly something that involves cleaning, Eren muses. His suspicions are confirmed when Levi starts on the living room, dusting shelves that are already too clean and straightening out cushions and throws that are barely ruffled.

His boyfriend is also neurotic clean freak. Go figure.

When Levi finishes, he takes a seat next to Eren and leans his head on the brunet's shoulder. Eren pulls him close, turning so his nose nudges the top of Levi's head. "How are you feeling?"

He hears Levi lick his lips, a moment of silence passing before he answers. "Okay."

"Okay?" Eren inquires. His fingers card through Levi's hair, brushing over his undercut along the way. "Not too hot or just 'eh'?"

"Eh." Levi answers in a tired voice, and turns so he's caught Eren's gaze. "I know what would make me feel better, though." He reaches up and pulls the incubus down into a gentle kiss, lips lingering on Eren's for a while before running his tongue along them. Eren's lips part and he feels cool breath on his lips before he's claiming the brunet's mouth in a slow, deep kiss.

Eren's hands tangle into Levi's hair, and his head is being tilted ever so slightly, his lips slanting over the brunet's even more, and his mouth being flooded with a hot tongue. Levi maneuvers himself into Eren's lap, draping his arms loosely over the incubus's shoulders as they kiss, sinuously slow and deep.

The vampire eventually feels fingers pressing him back slightly, and he parts from Eren's lips with a questioning look on his face. The incubus is tugging at the hem of his shirt now, tilting his neck at a delicious angle, and Levi knows it's an invitation.

He leans forward and kisses Eren's neck gently, spreads hot open-mouthed kisses across his tan skin, his tongue tasting and spreading dampness over Eren's flesh.

Levi looks at the spot where a bruise should be, but Eren, like most other supernatural beings, has an advanced rate of healing and his skin is flawless without any scarification or otherwise. Levi was sure Eren's neck would be a mess right now if he didn't possess said healing abilities.

His mouth opens wide and he's clamping down on the juncture where Eren's neck meets his shoulder. Levi feels the brunet jolt under him, a shaky gasp escaping Eren's lips. He feels warm arms wrapping around him and fingers fisting into the back of his shirt.

Hot blood fills his mouth and Levi is lost in the taste of it. Tinged with sexual desire and something specifically supernatural, Eren tastes incredibly sweet on his tongue. He presses closer, sinks his fangs in deeper, and hears a whimper resound from the Incubus.

"It doesn't hurt." Eren half moans, and Levi already knows. But Eren reassures him every time.

Vampires are creatures specifically tailored to be seductive predators. Their bites are filled with venom, a kind that renders their victims boneless in their grasp and bodies hypersensitive to pleasure.

He likes to think that maybe he and Eren were made for each other. They seem to fit together like puzzle pieces, after all.

When Levi drinks from Eren, it leaves him feeling almost jittery. Something in the incubus's blood lights a spark inside Levi, better than any human ever could. He bites down just a bit harder, knowing that Eren must be teetering on that fine line of pain and pleasure.

Blood runs down across Eren's collarbone now and seeps into his shirt, dying it deep crimson. He hears the brunet's breathing pick up, feels nails digging into his back through his shirt. "L-Levi…" Eren manages to choke out, but he's not pushing the vampire away. If anything, Eren just tilts his head farther way, exposing more of his neck.

When Levi finally does part from Eren, it's with a sharp gasp and a bloody mouth. He wipes at his chin with the back of his hand and instantly grimaces when all he manages to do is smear it across his face. But Levi doesn't pay any actual mind to it, too drunk off of Eren's blood to care and feeling too good to actually complain.

Eren looks absolutely boneless under him, eyes half lidded and lips parted. His face looks a little pale from blood loss, but the dusting of pink on his cheeks helps to hide it. His turquoise eyes meets Levi's, and he smiles up at him lazily.

"Your eyes are pretty, Levi." He almost slurs the words together, and Levi raises a thin brow at him in amusement.

The vampire's eyes, once grey, are now ringed with red and almost glowing from Eren's blood. The blood is already doing wonders for Levi's body, his pale complexion no longer bordering on sickly and the shadows underneath his eyes are lightening up ever so slightly.

"You always say that, brat." Levi leans forward and presses a chaste kiss to Eren's lips. A droplet of blood smears across the incubus's mouth and Levi wipes it away with his thumb. "You're looking awfully tired."

"That's because I am." Eren mumbles out and yawns as if to accentuate the fact. "You usually always save that for the bedroom."

"I was hungry." Levi retorts, and backs off of Eren's lap so that he's standing. He pulls the sleepy incubus up so that he's standing as well and presses himself against Eren's chest in a hug. "I'll tuck you into bed."

Eren laughs tiredly, almost slumping into Levi's embrace. "You might wanna do that soon. I think I'm about to pass out."

* * *

"Sorry about splitting up like this, but I really have to help Connie carry Sasha back. You sure you'll be alright on your own?" Armin asks, sending Mikasa a worried look.

"I'm a big girl, Armin. I can take care of myself. I did it for years." She holds back the sharp retort about not needing a man to constantly watch over her. Armin is her friend, her good, trustworthy friend, and Mikasa knows better than to let her inborn mistrust cloud her view of him.

He just worries about her, like any good friend would. She reminds herself of this every day.

"Okay, well…I shouldn't be long."

She merely shrugs. "You can hang out at Connie and Sasha's house if you want. I was actually going to go check on Annie."

"Oh. Alright then." Armin smiles, and ducks his head so Mikasa can't see it. He knows that she has a soft spot for Annie. "Tell Annie I said hi, and that if she needs anything, I'm here."

"Sure thing."

They part, and Mikasa heads for Annie's house. The way Erwin has everything set up around here works out great for what goes on each week. Everyone lives in apartment-like housing around Erwin's own home, and it's situated right on the edge of the city, where the tall buildings meet the smaller houses. So travelling back and forth is easy enough and everyone is very familiar with each other.

Erwin's home is lavish, beautifully decorated, and complete with surrounding gardens and fountains. Group meetings are held at his house, which is within walking distance of everyone else's homes. Even the pathway connecting the apartments to Erwin's home is decorated with trimmed bushes and wrought iron fences.

The apartments don't even look like apartments, to be honest. They look like fancy little homes with brightly colored paneling and aesthetic vines climbing up the sides of the houses.

One might be confused as to how Erwin can afford it all, but to them, Erwin's wealth comes as no surprise. With age comes experience, and with experience comes money. And Erwin has been alive for a long, _long_ time.

Mikasa reaches Annie's home at the very end of the row of houses. She only has to knock once before the door is being opened, and Annie is sending her an inquisitive look.

"I didn't even have time to sit down." She shoots at Mikasa, but the amazon just shrugs.

"I couldn't catch you before you left today. You looked like you were in a hurry." She's let into the banshee's house and is grateful for the blast of cold air from the air conditioning. It was nearing the end of summer and the temperatures outside didn't seem to want to let up.

"Sorry about that." Annie apologizes, walking into the kitchen. Mikasa follows her. "I haven't been feeling great lately."

"I thought so." She stops by the island counter in the kitchen and watches as Annie starts pulling out items from the refrigerator and surrounding cabinets. She has to pull up her scarf to hide the amused smile on her face when Annie struggles to reach something in the top cabinet. "Do you need some help?"

The look she gets in return could probably chill even Levi, but Mikasa has grown used to Annie's threatening faces. If anything, she finds them amusing now. Realizing that her glare is doing nothing to Mikasa, Annie gives in with a sigh. "Can you get that box up there?"

Mikasa easily plucks the box down from the cabinet and hands it to Annie, trying not to look smug. Annie rolls her eyes and sets it on the island. "Just for that, you're going to help me cook dinner."

Mikasa whispers a sarcastic, "yes ma'am" and waits for Annie to explain what they're making. They eventually fall into a companionable silence, working alongside each other in the kitchen, preparing ingredients, and appreciating the comfortable atmosphere between them. Mikasa exercises extreme caution while handling the dishes, not wanting to break any of the items in her grasp. She's fine with accidentally breaking her own dishes, but she won't destroy Annie's because she's being careless. The comfortable silence remains unbroken as they work.

Until Annie suddenly gasps and almost drops the bowl she's holding. She braces herself on the counter and takes a couple heaving breaths in. Mikasa is immediately at her side, her hand on Annie's shoulder and her face close. "Annie? Annie, are you okay?"

The blonde banshee is shaking her head, squeezing her eyes shut. But she's not responding to Mikasa, rather she's trying to shake the uneasy feeling that's suddenly overcome her. Her arms tremble in their brace against the counter, and she's broken out into a slight sweat.

Mikasa remains calm. This has happened before a couple times. She's experienced Annie's episodes and she knows that they'll soon pass. But it's never fun to see Annie going through them. They look awful.

A couple minutes pass and Mikasa busies herself with rubbing Annie's back soothingly. She stays close to her, just in case the banshee falls over. When Annie's breathing finally starts to even out and her eyes don't seem as glazed over, she turns to Mikasa with an apologetic look. "Sorry about that."

Mikasa shakes her head, "Don't apologize. Do you need to sit down?"

Annie shakes her head, defiant. "No, I'm fine now." She manages to stand up straight and closes her eyes. She takes in a calming breath and exhales slowly. Her lips turn down in a grimace. "Just when I thought they were letting up a little. Goddamnit."

"So that was a bad one, huh?" Mikasa's hand has stilled on Annie's back, but she still hasn't removed it yet. Annie doesn't seem to mind, so she keeps it there as long as she can. "What did you see?"

Annie hesitates for a moment before answering. "A murder."

"Oh." That's really all Mikasa can say. No wonder it was bad. Accidents are pretty awful on their own, but murders are usually the worst when it comes to Annie. All those emotions coming from the victim, the fear, the adrenaline…Annie picks all those things up as well. "Are you going to be alright?"

"Yeah, don't worry. I'll be fine." Annie pats the side of Mikasa's arm, her lips spreading into a shaken smile. Her hand lingers for a moment before sliding off of the amazon's limb. Mikasa's hand does the same, and she tries not to notice how Annie's eyes close for a moment as her fingers brush down her spine.

She may or may not have it bad for Annie.

They resume preparing dinner together. Two hours later, and they're sitting in Annie's living room, eating meatloaf. They spend most of their time watching television and discussing what they've been up to lately with each other. Mikasa relays Armin's regards and Annie asks her to return the sentiment when she sees him again. When 9 p.m. rolls around, Annie asks if Mikasa would like to spend the night. There's no way the amazon can turn down her offer, so she agrees, but tries not to look too enthusiastic about it.

They head to bed around midnight, and though they both lie down on opposite sides of Annie's bed, it doesn't take long for them to meet in the middle, limbs strung over each other and Annie's head pressed into the crook of Mikasa's neck.

Annie tries to cast it off as something that helps with her anxiety, and while that's true, it's not the real reason why she wants to wrap herself around Mikasa. They go along with it however and doze off shortly after.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** I'm going to try and update this fic every 4 days, but no promises. I have some events coming up in the next 2 months that are going to keep me busy. I will, however, try my best to not let this story go past 8 days without updating.

* * *

"Hey, do you want to get something to eat?"

They were walking along the crowded sidewalk, people brushing past them as they made their way up the street. The summer heat pounded down on them from above, making the tops of their heads and shoulders hot and heavy, the sidewalk rippling in the illusion of heat.

Jean was grateful for the suggestion. That meant they could get inside, and inside usually meant air conditioning. The unforgiving heat of summer wasn't doing much to help with the simmering feeling underneath his borrowed skin.

"Yeah, sure. I don't think I can stand being out here much longer, anyway." He was a step or so behind Marco, always following behind the nephilim. He was content to let Marco take the reins and lead him wherever.

"Oh, good! I was hoping you'd say that. I'm kind of hungry." On cue, Marco felt his stomach rumble, and he patted it with his hand, a sheepish smile on his freckled face. The smells from the surrounding restaurants wafting around the street they were on was enticing.

"Where are we eating?" Jean asked, his eyes taking in the signs and names of various food joints around them.

"Let me see…" Marco stopped on the sidewalk and took a moment to observe the area they were in. "How about that diner over there? Diner food is always good."

Jean scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, maybe when it's 2 a.m. and you've been driving non-stop and the only thing in sight is a Denny's."

He may or may not be speaking from experience.

"Well, we can eat somewhere else I guess. If you really want to." Marco tries to hide it, but his face has fallen a little bit, and Jean actually feels his already blackened heart shrivel up a bit.

"No, it's, uh…it's fine. We can eat there. Don't know why you like diner food so much though." Marco is smiling again, and he's actually taken hold of Jean's hand and is leading him towards said diner.

"Like I said, diner food is always good."

When they step into the diner, it's with a gust of cool air blowing in their faces, and Jean visibly relaxes. He can feel the heat seeping out of his clothes. It's not hell, but it's still damn uncomfortable. They take a seat near the back end of the room and busy themselves with deciding on what to order.

Jean has already decided, but Marco is still looking, so he passes the time with glancing around the diner and observing the people around them.

The sizzle and pop of a grill frying food serves as a sort of ambience for the place. The buzz and hum of machines working and items clanging in the back join it. Jean's amber eyes flit back and forth between the workers at the counter. He catches sight of a cook in the back, apron and gloves glistening with grease and short hair covered in a net.

When he finally notices the waitress walking towards their table, it's already too late.

He visibly stiffens, hands gripping the edge of the table and liquid fire spreading through his body. His eyes hesitantly flick back to her torso and he flinches at the sight of the rosary around her neck. His teeth dig into his bottom lip, threatening to draw blood.

He wants to hurt her. He wants to rip the offending item off her neck and beat the shit out of her for daring to even wear something out in the open like that.

He knows he's being completely irrational, being so worked up over something so small, but the demon in him relishes at the opportunity to cause bodily harm. He wants blood, he needs to see her flesh blacken and bloom with bruises, he needs to wrap his hands around her throat and _squeeze_, he needs to know the feel of her skin ripping under his hands, he needs to-

"Jean."

Honey eyes flit up to meet amber ones, and it serves as a minute distraction for Jean. Marco's face has worry spread all across it, and he's sending Jean a pleading look, silently begging him not to act out.

It's not enough to keep his mind off of the waitress and her fucking rosary.

It is enough, however, to freeze him in his actions. He balls his fists up tightly and focuses on trying to keep them glued to the table while she takes Marco's order. She turns to him, pen and pad in hand and mint gum smacking loudly between her lips, and Jean feels himself bristle under her attention.

"A-Ah, he'll take the same thing as me!" Marco thankfully intervenes, and the waitress sends Jean a strange look before turning to Marco and nodding. She writes down the same order, alerts them of how long it'll take for their food to arrive, and leaves.

Jean takes a moment to close his eyes, to try and reign himself back in. His nails are digging uncomfortably into his palms still, and his arms feel heavy against the table. He shakes his head, as if to shake off the violent, dark thoughts, but to no avail. They still linger.

He feels a cool palm land on the top of his hand, and immediately jerks his limb away. Marco's hand still lingers in the air slightly, his lips parted in surprise, but his eyes conveying hurt.

Jean is too worked up to care.

And Marco knows better than to try and speak to him, for fear of making a scene. If it were anywhere else, he wouldn't hesitate to talk Jean down. But the resulting shouting match that would inevitably take place wouldn't bode well for them, and the public attention would only make things escalate dangerously.

The nephilim silently prays that Jean can keep himself under control.

The minutes spent waiting on their food are tense, to say the least. Jean seemingly refuses to relax and Marco is frozen in silent trepidation at what could happen. The clock seems to move too slowly for either of their tastes, and when the time limit that the waitress gave them is finally up, the nephilim feels cold anticipation spread through his veins.

Marco catches sight of the waitress walking towards their table with two trays in her hands, one filled with their plates of food, and the other with complimentary coffee. He swallows tightly around the lump in his throat and tries to put on his kindest smile, but the strain he feels on his face must be showing because she gives him her own sheepish look.

"Here's your soup and BLTs," She sets down one tray on Marco's side of the table. "And here's your coffee." She's about to lower the tray on Jean's side, but the plastic item never touches the table.

Marco is only able to watch in horror as Jean smacks the tray out of her hands and sends the scalding hot coffee all over her face and chest.

She screams, immediately, loud and piercing. Marco can literally hear the sizzle of the liquid on her skin. She stumbles back from the table, almost falls over until her body bounces off the wall, and she slides down it, still screaming. The only difference is now she is screaming for help.

Marco manages to tear his eyes away from her, and they land on Jean.

The demon looks extremely pleased with himself, face threatening to crack under the intensity of his almost manic smile. The pearly whites of his teeth are showing now, and Marco catches sight of the blackness seeping from the corner of Jean's eyes.

He's up and out of the booth in an instant, jerking Jean to his feet and running past all the horrified spectators in the diner. He hears someone yelling, commanding both of them to stop and explain themselves, but he ignores it.

Marco runs and runs, and tugs Jean along despite the other's protests and desire to stick around and cause even more trouble. He utilizes his unnatural strength, overpowering Jean and forcing the demon to follow anyway. He knows his grip must be crushing Jean's arm, but he can't think about that right now. He needs to get them away.

They should have left as soon as the waitress took their order. Marco should have done something right then and there.

The nephilim fights against the urge to go back and heal the poor waitress's burns, to beg her for forgiveness and assure her that Jean didn't mean it. But he can't. He knows they can never show their faces in that diner again.

It might do them some good to stay away from that entire street for a while, to be honest.

When he finally stops, they're in a secluded alleyway. He feels Jean jerk his arm away from him, and when he looks up from where he's bent over, still trying to catch his breath, he's met with black eyes.

"You wanna tell me why you thought that was a good fucking idea?" Jean's voice is not his own. It's low and feral and slightly distorted. His face is contorted into an expression of rage at having had his fun be interrupted.

"Jean," Marco straightens himself out and meets Jean's pitch black eyes. His lips part, but all he manages to force out is a quiet "please".

The demon doesn't take it. His face contorts in a growl. "No, fuck that." He takes a step towards Marco, and then another and the nephilim quickly realizes that Jean is closing in on him. The demon reaches out with both hands and snags a fistful of Marco's shirt. He makes an attempt to slam the nephilim into the brick wall behind him, but Marco is faster to act.

He reverses their positions, pushing Jean backwards until the demon's back hits the wall, but missing half of the force Jean intended to use on him. Marco makes a grab for Jean's forearms, and the demon struggles against him vehemently, but isn't quick enough to prevent Marco from grabbing him.

Jean hisses in displeasure as his arms are held down on either side of his head in an iron grip, the rough texture of the brick building digging into his skin. He wants to shout obscenities at Marco, turn his sadistic hatred on the nephilim and do to him what he wanted to do to the waitress back at the diner.

"Jean!" Marco tries again, his voice raised and frantic. He's pressed right up against Jean out of fear of the other trying to use their legs to kick him. It's to no avail. Jean is still struggling wildly against him, and his obscenities have turned into full on, feral growls.

It's a chance, and a stupid one at that, but Marco tries anyway.

He releases Jean's arms and cups the demon's face instead. "Jean! Jean, you have to calm down!" The feeling of Jean's fingers digging roughly into his arms makes him wince. He feels nails piercing into his skin, threatening to tear. He knows Jean has the strength to do it too, but he doesn't care. He'll heal.

"Please…" His fingers splay slightly, his thumbs brushing over Jean's temples. "Jean, listen to me." The demon's struggling slows a little, and Jean's face morphs into an expression of confusion with anger on the edges. "It's me. It's Marco. It's…"

Jean is breathing raggedly, chest heaving with effort. He narrows his blackened eyes a little, as if trying to make something out in the distance. Marco meets his empty gaze, brows pinched together in worry, amber eyes hopeful. He's so close that Jean can feel his breath on his lips.

Jean's eyes widen, and the blackness in them seeps away like ink in water.

"M-Marco?" His fingers relax, his nails dislodging themselves from Marco's skin. He looks around, confused, on edge, unaware of their surroundings.

All Marco can do is sigh in relief. He gives a shaky laugh, slumping a little against Jean. His forehead rests against the demon's shoulder. "Oh wow. Thank goodness."

Jean registers the fact that Marco is pressed flush up against him, and feels heat rise to his cheeks. He looks down where his fingers had been dug into Marco's arm and is startled by the shallow puncture wounds he sees. "Marco, what…what happened?" He runs his fingers over the slightly bleeding crescents.

"You lost control." The nephilim answers sadly, his voice muffled by Jean's shoulder. He doesn't even bother to take a step back. He straightens up and is relieved by the normalcy of Jean's eyes now. "We were in the diner, and you lost control."

Jean feels a lump form in his throat. He averts his gaze to the ground, or what he can see of it without Marco pressed up against him. "Did I hurt anyone?"

He'd rather withhold the truth from Jean, shield him from the pain he knows it will bring the demon. But he can't. It's his duty to be honest with Jean, to tell him exactly what he did wrong.

He promised Jean he'd help him, even if it means occasionally hurting him.

"You smacked coffee into a waitress's face. I think she got some pretty nasty burns."

"Oh." It's just a one syllable word, but Marco hears so much disappointment in it.

Jean feels like a failure, like he's went and fucked everything up again. Just a few days ago, Marco was bragging about his good behavior. It hasn't even been a full week, and he's already gone and let the nephilim down.

On top of that, he's also physically hurt Marco. If he had to be honest, that's probably the worst part of it all.

"I'm sorry." Jean manages to croak out. "I fucked up again."

That's all it takes to spur Marco into pulling the demon into a hug. He wraps his arms around Jean, and whispers soothingly to him. "Don't put yourself down about it. You're trying, and that's all that matters."

"I hurt you." He hears the weak mumble against his shoulder, but is happy to feel Jean reciprocate the hug.

"That's nothing, trust me. It'll heal before the day is over with." Marco knows that's not why Jean is so upset, but he doesn't want to make the demon feel any worse. "And you know that I don't mind."

"Doesn't change the fact that it makes me a shitty person."

"You're a great person. You just have to deal with crappy things." Marco gives Jean's back a reassuring pat. "You're one of the greatest friends I've ever had. I mean that."

When they part from the hug, Jean tries to hide the disappointment on his face. "Yeah, I…you're a great friend too." Marco smiles gently at him, and Jean is left feeling bittersweet underneath it. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Same." Marco's smile brightens a little. The nephilim pats him on the shoulder, and motions to the entrance of the alley. "Let's go home, okay?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:** So sorry for the delay! I've been sick ever since Sunday, so I've kinda been incapacitated as of lately. D:

* * *

"So I've been meaning to ask you, when did you find the time to replace the curtains?" Speaking of which, Reiner was now looking at the brand new replacement curtains that were a slightly different color than the ones they'd had before in their living room.

"Oh, uh…" Bertholdt looks up from the book he's reading, and he looks nervous as always. Reiner can see his fingers fiddling with the corners of the pages. "I kind of ran to the store immediately after it happened."

"You ran." The golem states simply, sending his literal partner-in-crime a strange look. "You just ran out the door to buy new curtains." The mental image behind his eyes has the blond brute on the verge of laughter.

"Well, yeah. I didn't want you to find out." The fire element closes the book and sets it aside. "It was kind of embarrassing."

"Why? I probably would have just laughed, to be honest. I've seen you do a lot worse, buddy." It was true. He and Bertholdt used to be in a not-so-normal gang of supernaturals a few years back. It was rough, and they did some seriously questionable stuff, but it was all behind them now.

"Still embarrassing." The taller of the two shifts his eyes to the side, and he's suddenly looking self-conscious of himself. "Wanting to set fire to everything that looks combustible isn't normal, you know."

"Well, neither is turning your skin into a solid sheet of rock, but hey. If people have a problem with it, they can take it up with me personally." It's an attempt to comfort Bertholdt, but where Reiner is aggressive, Bertholdt is passive. Their view of their problems varies drastically, and while Reiner can brush off negative criticism rather easily, it eats away at Bertholdt's already crumbling confidence.

"Yeah, I guess."

* * *

An ear piercing moan resonates throughout the house, and Connie can't help but wince at it.

He's changing into fresh clothes, smoothing out his appearance in the mirror, and trying not to shiver under the cold air of their house's air conditioning. Sasha is somewhere in her room, undoubtedly lying across her bed with her arms wrapped around her rumbling stomach.

"Sasha!" Connie calls out her name, an unwanted hiss accompanying it. "We have group in a couple of minutes! Are you ready yet?"

His answer is another dragged out moan.

He sighs, deflating a little. Sasha's appetite must be getting the best of her today. He'll most likely have to coax the ghoul out of her bedroom.

He knocks on her door and waits about ten seconds before entering. Lo and behold, she's sprawled across her bed, but she's lying on her stomach instead with her face buried in the sheets. She's dressed for group, that much Connie and tell, but it doesn't look like she's going to be moving anytime soon.

"You that hungry?" He asks, taking a seat on the edge of her bed. She answers by kicking her legs into the comforter a couple of times. "I know it's gotta feel rough, but we can't miss group today. Erwin will come looking for us personally if we don't show up. You really wanna have him spend an entire evening doing the whole 'feelings talk' thing with us?"

"So hungry…can't move." The brunette ghoul groans and fists the sheets in her hands. "Feels like I'm dying."

It sounds like an exaggeration, but knowing Sasha and her appetite, Connie thinks that maybe it's not too far from the truth. He places a soothing hand on her back and rubs it a little. "I know, it sucks."

He hates to see her suffering, hates to see how pitiful she becomes when she can't think about anything else other than the hunger. Connie knows that everyone in their group has their fair share of problems, but he feels like Sasha might have it the worst. His gut clenches in sympathy.

"How about this? We get group over with today, and then we can talk to Hanji or something. Maybe she'll know how to make it easier on you." To anyone else, it would have sounded like a great idea. Medicine to help treat your supernatural woes? Hell yeah.

The only problem was that it was Hanji of all people, and it was no secret that the crazy witch scared Sasha to death. Especially ever since Hanji expressed her desire to know more about Sasha's anatomy and how it differed compared to humans. The manic smile on the witch's face that day had been enough to make Sasha turn white with fear.

"No! No, no, no, no." Sasha chanted over and over again. "I'd rather starve than be subject to crazy experiments!"

The llamia gave another weary sigh, his hand coming to a standstill on Sasha's back. He honestly doubted Hanji would do anything to hurt Sasha and that the witch had everyone's health in her best concerns, but the seed of fear was planted and thus there mostly likely wouldn't be any progress in that direction for a while.

"Okay, so we'll just ask Erwin about it. How about that? I'm sure he's got someone who can help you besides Hanji. That guy has connections all around the world. Either way," Connie glanced over at the clock sitting on Sasha's bed stand. "We have a couple minutes before Erwin starts, and we kind of have to get going. Like, right now." He gives Sasha's back a reassuring pat. "Come on, Sash. Just hold out for a little a little while longer."

She remains unmoving and silent for a couple seconds, but finally gives in with a weak whimper. "Fine, okay, okay." She crawls off of the bed, nearly tipping over the edge and landing face first. Connie stands up and she does the same, albeit looking weak and shaky. Her hands instantly go to her stomach, and she winces in apparent pain.

Connie loops his arm around hers and urges her to walk with him. "You're a tough girl, Sash. You can do it." He helps walk her out of the house and onto the pathway leading to Erwin's own home. "We'll figure something out, don't worry."

* * *

Group went as usual. Erwin greeted everyone with his kind demeanor in place, group members relayed their activities over the past week, and individual problems were shared and discussed.

Jean reluctantly fessed up to his episode at the diner, the self-loathing and barely suppressed anger visible in his honey eyes. Erwin supplied that Jean was being too harsh on himself, and that he should focus more on how to prevent future episodes instead of marinating in his own regret.

Annie shared the details of the harsh episode she'd experienced after last week's session. As usual, Erwin asked about the intensity of it, and she admitted with reluctance that it had been one of high stress.

Mikasa admitted to being present at the time and offered her own details about it. The sound of Erwin's pen scratching against Annie's file resonated throughout the room. "The main problem seems to be the anxiety caused by these episodes. I'm thinking about having Hanji examine you, to see if there's any medicine that can help ease the stress you're experiencing."

"Shouldn't we be focusing more on how to prevent them from even happening?" Annie asks, voice monotone as always.

"That may take a while." Erwin admits. "For now, we'll focus on easing the strain it puts on you. Then we can focus on how to prevent future episodes from happening."

The banshee nods in understand, and soon Erwin's light blue eyes are falling on Sasha. His thick eyebrows rise in a questioning manner at the ghoul who's doubled over in her chair. "Sasha, are you feeling okay?"

Connie, who's seated next to her, answers for the currently incapacitated ghoul. "She's been having some serious hunger pains lately."

"No relapses?" Erwin asks, blue eyes meeting Connie's slit gold ones.

"Nah, none this week. She's been trying really hard ever since you spoke to her last week." Sasha whimpers quietly, and her stomach gives a loud growl. "She's been controlling herself pretty good, but the hunger is all she can think about."

"I see." Erwin's voice is low, and he looks at Sasha with empathy.

Connie hesitates for a moment, but forces himself to ask despite his nervousness. "Uh, actually, we were kind of wondering if maybe there was something we could do about the whole hunger thing." Before Erwin can beat him to it, Connie quickly tacks on. "Something that doesn't involve Hanji poking and prodding? I mean, not right now. No offense to her, honestly, it's just that she makes Sasha really nervous."

"The hunger will be something that Sasha will always feel." Erwin notes.

Connie already knows this. There's no magical cure for what you are, there are only ways that help making deal with it easier. "We know, she definitely knows. I mean, she just really needs help focusing on ways to ignore it. She can barely function sometimes because the hunger is always at the front of her mind."

"It's all I think about." Sasha croaks out weakly. "It's like what I get is never enough. I need more. It's never enough."

Erwin hums in understanding, and his expression turns thoughtful. He taps his pen against Sasha's file, silence overcoming the room at the lack of inquiring on his part.

Finally, he sets the pen down, and turns to look at Sasha, who's now managed to raise her head up and meet his stare. "I think I know someone who can help you, Sasha. He used to experience almost the exact same problem as you, albeit they were a little different here and there. I'll give him a call and see if he can assist you in any way." His expressions turns serious, and Sasha swallows nervously under it. "Eventually, you will have to let Hanji examine you though. Your physical health and wellbeing is just as important as your mental health."

"I understand, sir." Sasha murmurs quietly, and she's back to grasping at her stomach, her head bowed.

Erwin checks up on Bertholdt last, and then group is ending shortly afterwards.

They leave Erwin's home, but some of them stay behind to converse with each other near the large fountain in front of the entrance. Ymir and Christa have taken up conversation with Marco, and apparently the tall nymph is urging the two to show off their wings.

"I haven't actually had them out in a long time." Marco admits, rubbing his arm nervously. "I'm not used to people seeing them."

"Same." Christa agrees, and her voice is soft as always. "I'm always afraid that mine will scare people off if I'm not too careful."

Ymir slings an arm around the petite fairy, and presses a kiss to Christa's temple. "That's nonsense, babe. The first time I saw your wings, I thought someone was going to have to resuscitate me. They took my breath away."

Christa flushes at Ymir's words, turning bashful. "You were also spying on me and I had no idea you were watching."

"I didn't want to scare such a cute thing off." The tall nymph shoots back playfully, and Christa's cheeks somehow turn even redder.

By this time, Jean has picked up wind of their conversation and has made his way over to Marco. "So what's all this talk about wings, huh?"

The freckled nephilim actually sputters for a moment. "It's uh…well, nothing really."

Ymir laughs, and Marco feels dread over what he knows is coming next. "Oh hush up angel, and show your _boyfriend_ your wings already."

The nephilim's face turns red, and he fumbles for a second or two. He manages to whisper around the same time that Jean shouts. "He's not my boyfriend!"

"Of course not, how _dare_ I make that assumption." The nymph's tone is still teasing and Marco can feel himself withering under Ymir's attention. "Still, though, I'd like to see those wings. I've never seen an angel's wings before."

"I'm not an angel, though." Marco retorts quietly, and his amber eyes lower abashedly.

"You're supposed to be half and half, right? Close enough. Now come on already. Or are you nervous because your boyfriend is here?"

"Ymir!" Christa chides, and she elbows the nymph gently. "Please stop teasing him. That's not very nice." Christa's kind blue eyes turn to Marco, and she sends him a comforting smile. "You don't have to show anyone your wings if you don't want to. Just do whatever makes you feel the most comfortable."

Marco can't help but smile at the gentle fairy, and he pointedly ignores Ymir's disappointed groan. "Thanks, Christa. I just don't really feel comfortable doing it in front of people." Both out of embarrassment and out of fear. Marco doesn't know much about his kind or the specific details of his birth, but he does know that nephilim were once considered abominations and that some supernatural creatures still hold that sentiment today. "I guess I'll see you guys soon?"

They say their goodbyes and part to head home, but not before Jean asks in a hesitant, unsure voice. "It's not because of me, is it?"

"No!" The nephilim answers immediately, almost defensively. "No." He answers again, softer this time. "Of course not. Don't ever think like that, Jean."

They leave the area around the fountain is mostly empty now, except for Eren and Levi who are still seated at a bench nearby. "Damn, I thought we were gonna get a show." The incubus sighs in disappointment. "Would have been nice to see those two confront their big gay feelings for each other. Armin would have had a field day if he stuck behind."

"Good luck with that ever happening." Comes the monotone response beside him. Levi leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You could lock them in a fucking closet and you'd be lucky if something happened between the two of them."

"Maybe one day Jean won't be such a stubborn jackass about his feelings." Eren pauses for a moment, but goes on with a laugh. "Oh, who am I kidding. That's wishful thinking."


End file.
